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Thu, Oct. 11th, 2012, 09:00 pm
srmarybadass: can't stop won't stop

Title: Follow You Follow Me
Rating: R
Pairing: Tony//Peter/Mike
Summary: Mike helps resolve an argument.
Disclaimer: :. Any similarity between the fictional version of the person or persons portrayed here and the actual person or persons is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is not an attempt to defame the character of said person(s) on the basis of libel, as the work is FICTIONAL (and NOT an intently false statement created with the express purpose of misleading others about the actual character of said person or persons). I am not casting aspersions on the sexual orientation or activity of the characters represented within. 


Mike was sitting alone in his hotel room, casually flipping through a magazine, when the phone rang. He picked it up, wondering who would be calling him, and why

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mike,” came Tony’s voice. “Peter and I are having a bit of a disagreement. Do you think you could come down here and help us resolve it?”

Mike paused before answering. He was pretty sure that the disagreement, whatever it was, had nothing to do with music. “Sure.” He hung up the phone, pocketed his room key, and walked down the hall. He knocked on their door.

“Come in, and lock it behind you!” Tony called. Mike did as he was told and turned the corner into the bedroom, where – oh.

Peter was tied spread-eagled to the sizable bed, with Tony crouched over him like a triumphant cat. Mike wondered for a moment why Peter wasn’t vocally and loudly protesting this when he realized that he was also gagged.

“Peter here thinks I’m a control freak,” Tony said.

“Well, um,” Mike said, sitting down in the chair next to the bed because he wasn’t sure what else to do, “considering the position you’ve got him in, I can’t say he’s entirely wrong.”

“Yes, that’s what I said, and then he said – what did you say, Peter?”

Peter made some very angry muffled noises.

“Oh yes, that’s right,” Tony grinned, crawling off the bed and situating himself in Mike’s lap. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and Mike started running his fingers up and down Tony’s back idly. “He said that I was too much of a coward to let anyone else be in charge, ever, and that we couldn’t get any songwriting done if I was micromanaging everyone with the bloody Mellotron.”

Mike started to piece things together. He wasn’t sure he wanted to get between Tony and Peter, but at the same time, he very much did. “So…are you implying that you want someone else to be in charge?” He raked his blunt nails down Tony’s chest, and grinned to himself as Tony shuddered involuntarily. Oh, he was liking the sound of this.

“I couldn’t very well let Peter win an argument, could I?”

“And why haven’t you let Peter prove himself wrong? See what happens with him in charge?”

“With him in charge? Are you daft? He’d have no idea what to do with me.”

“And I do.” Mike stood up abruptly, causing Tony to tumble off his lap and fall to the floor. He stood up to his full height, looming. Tony looked up at him, and his eyes were very wide. He had sprawled, when he fell, and Mike gestured.

“On your knees and get to work, then.” When Tony didn’t move fast enough, Mike grabbed him by the hair, to encourage him along. With his other hand, he undid his belt buckle and the sound of a zipper sliding down filled the room. He glanced over to Peter, who was staring at them in shock. Mike grinned and winked at him before turning his attention back to Tony. “If you want me to fuck you, you’ve got to earn it.”

Tony frowned up at him testily. “I never said-”

“Good. Keep not saying things. You’ve got better things to do with your mouth.” The harsh tug on Tony’s hair left him no other choice but to take Mike’s cock into his mouth. Clearly he knew what he was doing, and Peter had the oddest look on his face – Mike was wondering what the history there was, the story behind Tony’s very apparent oral skill. He’d have to ask about that sometime, but for now he was enjoying the tricks of the tongue, the glide of the lips, letting Tony bring him to full hardness, not that it was a particularly hard thing to do. He’d felt the first spikes of arousal walking down the damn hallway.

It was tempting, to let Tony’s talented tongue bring him to completion, to watch him swallow, or try to swallow, or maybe to just spatter all over his perfect face. But no. That wasn’t what Tony really wanted. What he needed. And he was going to give Tony what he needed. After a few more minutes, another tug on his hair made Tony slide off, and Mike had to clench his teeth together to retain self-control. Tony’s lips were red and shiny and just a little bit swollen. Gorgeous.

Mike shimmied out of the rest of his clothes and lounged back in the chair as casually as possible, long legs splayed. Tony stopped and stared at him for a moment, as if unsure, until he realized with a slight start what Mike was indicating with his raised eyebrow. He reached under the pillow for the bottle of lube and brought it over to Mike, toes curling into the carpet. Mike pulled him into his lap.

“I-”

“Shh.” Mike placed a finger over Tony’s lips. He quieted, and Mike liberally slicked up his fingers before kissing him gently. Tony gasped when Mike slipped a finger into him, and Mike took that opportunity to deepen the kiss, their tongues sliding together softly. Tony was tight, and his whole body was tense, and so Mike spent long minutes teasing him, loosening him up, relaxing him and winding him up until he was wantonly straddling Mike’s lap, not caring about the litany of moans he was making.

“Now,” he said at last. “Ride me.” He shifted, and help Tony sink down onto his cock. Tony hissed, and Mike paused, giving him time to adjust before sheathing himself fully. Tony began moving, slowly at first at then faster, while Mike trailed kisses up and down his neck.

“Do you trust me?” Mike whispered.

“Ah?” Tony gasped. Words were a bit beyond him at that moment.

“I said,” he repeated, sliding one hand over Tony’s throat, “do you trust me?” Just the slightest bit of pressure, not enough to even momentarily disrupt Tony’s heaving breaths, but enough to let him know who had all the power at that moment.

Tony looked straight into his eyes and nodded. There was a groan from across the room and Mike glanced over Tony’s shoulder to Peter, whose back was arching off the bed and who was, very clearly, aroused. Poor lad. He’d have Tony take care of him soon. But first…

“Peter?” Mike asked, and Peter arched an eyebrow at him. “do you have something to say?”

The still-gagged singer glared at him for a moment, before flicking his eyes to the wall, and back to Mike, and back to the wall. Mike grinned.

“Oh, excellent.”

Summoning every ounce of strength in his lanky body, he stood, carrying Tony over to the wall and shoving him roughly up against it, the pianist’s legs still wrapped tightly around his waist. Gone was the gentleness, the soft touch. Mike fucked him, hard, and Tony dug his nails into the flesh of his back and cried out when he came. It was only after Tony had stopped trembling that he allowed himself to lose control, and his legs damn near crumpled beneath him with the force of his orgasm.

He set Tony down carefully, not quite trusting his muscles, and rolled his shoulders.

“You’re not done yet,” he said. “Peter’s been very patient.”

Peter nodded as much as he could, and – surprisingly, without argument – Tony crawled over him and unzipped his trousers. There was a muffled shout of relief as his hardness was finally, finally freed from the confines of pants, and Tony swallowed him down with the same skill he had Mike. It didn’t take long at all for Peter to come apart, straining against his bonds. Tony sat back and wiped the corners of his mouth as Mike set about removing the gag and untying Peter, checking to make sure the ties – good lord, were these actual neckties? They were – hadn’t chafed his wrists.

“Just like at school, eh, Tony?” Peter laughed, voice hoarse.

“Shut up,” Tony grinned. While Peter was stretching and shucking his clothes and Tony was washing up in the bathroom, Mike made three quick cups of tea, which he fussed over and made everyone drink before allowing them to finally collapse into bed. Peter curled up on his left, and Tony on his right, and Mike wrapped his arms around them, waiting for them to fall asleep before he himself drifted off happily.